


Peter Quill and the Temple of Bad Luck

by Kate_MacKay



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-16 13:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_MacKay/pseuds/Kate_MacKay
Summary: Peter and Gamora agree to recover an artefact for the Broker. It is not as simple a job as it was made out to be and could end up costing them their lives.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This work is completely unrelated to my previous story. It's just a random tale that popped into my head and I decided to share it here. I hope you enjoy it.

CHAPTER ONE:

“What’s the catch?” Quill demanded, glaring at the viewscreen in the dining area of the _Quadrant_.

The Broker looked insulted. “What makes you think there is a catch, Mr. Quill?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he replied sarcastically. “Maybe because last time you told me it was just ‘a simple recovery of an artefact’, I ended up on an extremely dangerous planet being chased by the minions of a whack-job Kree and the ‘simple artefact’ was an infinity stone with the power to destroy the galaxy!”

“I didn’t know it was an infinity stone or that Ronan was involved,” the Broker defended. “I promise you, this really _is_ just an artefact—some sort of religious statue. My buyer is willing to pay generously for it, so I am paying you generously to retrieve it.”

“Forty thousand units isn’t generous.” Actually, it was, but Quill prided himself on his ability to negotiate a better price.

“Fine,” the Broker relented. “Sixty thousand units.”

Peter remained silent.

“Eighty thousand units, but not a single more,” the Broker stated firmly.

“Deal,” Quill agreed happily. “Send me everything you know about this artefact.”

* * *

“The temple is west of here.” Quill pointed to a blinking red arrow on the map displayed on the large viewscreen. He and Gamora were alone in the galley of the _Quadrant_. “A volcanic eruption buried the area in ash a thousand years ago, but a recent earthquake revealed a way inside. I’m thinking the two of us can do this. Rocket and Kraglin can be trusted to resupply the ship and Drax, he can do whatever it is he and Mantis do together when we’re in port. Groot will be fine without us for a few hours. There’s enough adults to look after him.”

Gamora studied Quill’s hopeful expression critically. “You are using this as an excuse to get me alone.”

He didn’t deny it. “We’ve never actually had a real date, just me and you.”

“You cooked dinner for me once,” Gamora reminded.

“Yeah, but then Rocket started building a weapon of mass destruction at the table while we were eating.”

“True. What about when we went to that place on Spartax together?”

“Spartax is a weird place for a date and as I recall, Drax got us all thrown out when he started a brawl at the gaming table.”

Gamora paused, thinking carefully. “What about that night we sat together in your quarters, listened to music, and talked?”

“And I got as far as putting my arm around you before Groot came in,” Peter recalled.

“He had a nightmare and wanted to stay with us.”

“There was no way we could say no to the little guy.”

“But I see your point, Peter. Time alone with you would be enjoyable.” Gamora took his hands in hers and smiled.

Quill couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so beautiful, especially when she looked at him the way she did now, with the soft smile she reserved only for him and her dark eyes expressing their unspoken thing.

Gamora thought she could lose herself in Quill’s green eyes. He never looked at anyone the way he looked at her, with respect, desire, trust, and an emotion neither of them had been daring enough to put words to. She pulled him closer, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. She knew he wanted their relationship to be more physical, but he never demanded or even asked for it. He waited patiently for her to be comfortable moving to that. Maybe she finally was. “Peter?” she asked softly.

He recognised the permission she was granting. He leaned down slowly. She felt his warm breath on her skin, his lips so close but waiting for her to make the final move as he closed his eyes.

Kraglin stumbled into the room. “Hey! In port should we buy some…” He stopped abruptly when he noticed Peter and Gamora jump apart. He looked from one to the other and swallowed uncomfortably. “Uh… Sorry, Capt’n. Didn’t mean to… uh…”

Quill glanced apologetically at Gamora. She flashed him a smile of both understanding and promise. He sighed and reminded himself there was a painful sweetness waiting for just the right time.

* * *

“This isn’t exactly what I planned for a date,” Quill apologised as he flew the _Quadrant’s_ small transport shuttle west. “This is more Indiana Jones than conventional date, but I’m just happy to be spending time with you.”

“We are not exactly conventional people,” Gamora stated matter-of-factly. “And what is Indiana Jones? Another thing from Terra?”

“Yeah, but it’s who, not what.”

“A Terran hero?”

“Yeah. He was supposed to be some sort of scientist, but had adventures around the world finding powerful artefacts. He was best known for finding the Ark of the Covenant, this golden box that could make an army invincible. He kept the bad guys, these evil people called the Nazis, from getting it. They wanted to take over the world and kill millions of people.”

“Hmm…” Gamora thought for a moment. She rested her hand on his forearm and stated, “He recovered a powerful relic and kept evil fanatics from using it to harm innocent people?”

Quill nodded.

“I find such heroes attractive.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty good… Uh…” He paused as his brain processed what she had said, and what she implied. “Did you say attractive?” He looked at Gamora. Her lips were curved into a slightly teasing smile. Was she flirting with him? Gamora? Flirting?

She patted his arm. “Tell me this Epic of Indiana Jones someday. Right now, you should watch where you are flying.”

“Right.” He returned his attention to their flight path. “We’re almost there.”

Gamora looked out the window with concern, seeing nothing but endless deep green beneath them. “It’s not in the forest, is it?”

“No, it’s in some rocky hills at the edge of the forest. From what the locals told me, we don’t want to go into those trees,” Peter warned. “They said there are these… I don’t remember what they called them, but they’re some sort of animals that sound a lot like dinosaurs living in the forest.”

“Dinosaurs?”

“Umm… Big, scaly, scary animals. Some of them wouldn’t mind eating us for dinner.”

“Risaedla,” Gamora explained. “They are called risaedla. I was also told there are flesh eating plants in the forest.”

“Like the Venus fly-trap?”

“I do not know that plant. These are said to eat risaedla.”

“Whoa! I thought bug eating plants were creepy,” Quill stated. “Dinosaur eating plants—that’s just wrong.”

Gamora nodded. “I think we can agree to stay away from the forest.”


	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO:

Quill landed the transport on a relatively flat area not far from a giant fissure in the dull grey rock that revealed just a small corner of an ornate building. The forest was far below them, appearing as a vast dark green sea surrounding the rugged mountain of rock.

Studying the information provided by the Broker on a small viewscreen in the cockpit, Quill made sure he memorised the layout of the temple. It was not terribly complex, once he found the correct corridor that led to the sanctuary where the statue they were supposed to retrieve rested.

It looked straightforward. Almost easy.

And that was what made Quill worry. Just a little bit.

“Are you all right, Peter?” Gamora asked as she came to stand beside him. She clipped her blade in place on her hip.

“Yeah, I am. Let’s get that statue. And after that, we’ll have a nice picnic together before going back to the others.”

Quill had described the concept of a picnic to Gamora. She had been a little uncertain of the appeal at first, but he had made it sound like a very special Terran tradition. She was now looking forward to sharing this tradition with him. “Let us get this done,” she stated, “so we can proceed to more enjoyable things.”

* * *

Peter and Gamora walked together down the long corridor of the ancient temple to where the statue supposedly would be found. Each held a plasma sphere, the stark white light illuminating the interior of the ancient ruin. Surprisingly, the arched roof was still intact, somehow supporting the weight of the volcanic ash that had buried the structure. Looking closely, Quill discovered the entire building was constructed from a dull grey metal he had never seen before. Multicoloured gems embedded in the walls formed intricate geometric patterns. Ash, dust, and middens of unknown animals had gathered in the corners. Numerous fountains no longer spouting water lined the walls.

“If it’s here, it should be in the room beyond this door,” Quill said as he stopped at a large, ornate metal door.

Gamora tried to push it open, but it was locked.

“I got this,” Quill said confidently. “Yondu taught me some very useful skills.” Using a tool he kept in his knapsack, he picked the lock in an impressively short amount of time and pushed the door open slowly.

The room on the other side was small, barely the size of the bridge on the _Milano_. The walls were not decorated with gems, causing the eyes to be drawn to the golden statue resting in a small niche in a recessed alcove no more than a few feet across. Quill didn’t know what alien race or god the statue was supposed to represent. To him it looked like a poorly crafted depiction of Jabba the Hutt with dreadlocks.

Gamora summarised it succinctly. “That is quite ugly.”

Peter nodded his agreement. “But 80,000 units will look very good.”

The instant Gamora stepped forward, bright white sparks shot from the walls and struck her. The last thing she heard was Peter shouting her name.

Catching Gamora as she collapsed, Quill pulled her out of the small room and held her protectively against his chest. He frantically checked for a pulse and let out the breath he was holding when he felt its strong and regular beat. Cupping her cheek and brushing his thumb gently over her soft skin, he begged for her to awaken.

Although only a few seconds, it seemed a lifetime until her eyes fluttered open. “Peter… What happened?”

“Some sort of booby trap,” he replied. “Looked like a jolt of electricity. Are you hurt?”

Her body mods had quickly countered the effects of the trap. Pushing away from him and his support, she replied, “No.” She met his concerned eyes. “Don’t look so worried, Peter. I promise you, I’m not hurt. Can you turn off the trap? We could really use those units.”

Quill agreed. The _Quadrant_ wasn’t exactly fuel efficient and they had two more team members to feed. Units were definitely needed.

Standing in the doorway, Quill carefully studied the room holding the statue. He finally noticed a subtle pattern in the metal plates that made up the floor. He pointed it out to Gamora. “See those small diamond-shaped areas? Pressure plates. First time I saw those was at a museum we robbed when I was still a kid, except there they set off an alarm, not a booby trap.”

Carefully avoiding the pressure plates, she and Peter crossed the short distance to the alcove that was barely large enough for both of them to stand in. He relaxed slightly, seeing none of the small diamond-shaped floor tiles in the area.

“It’s even uglier up close,” Quill commented, studying the figure of gold. He turned his attention to the niche that held it, concerned there could be another trap. He didn’t see anything. There were none of the typical trip wires, light sensors, pressure plates, or other traps he was familiar with. At least none that he could see. “I think we can take it.”

Gamora reached for it, but paused, looking to Peter.

He nodded.

As soon as she lifted the statue, a loud snap sounded. Quill reacted instantly and pushed Gamora away. She uttered a cry of surprise as a fraction of a second later, a thin spear of black metal shot from the wall, right where she had been standing. Right where Quill was now standing. Its sharp, barbed tip sank into the muscle between his ribs. He stumbled back against the metal wall as Gamora’s eyes widened with fear.

“Peter!”

He was surprised there was no pain. He calmly looked at the spear embedded in his flesh and stated, “That ain’t good.”


	3. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE:

The numbness wore off quickly and pain hit Quill hard. He slid slowly down the wall to sit on the floor with a groan. Staring in shock at the dark metal jabbed into his side, he grasped the long shaft and tried to support its weight to ease the tearing pain.

Within seconds, Gamora was kneeling beside him, her steadying hand on his shoulder. “Peter… Peter, look at me.

He swallowed hard, let out a slow breath, and finally obeyed.

Gamora’s expression was filled with worry, but she assured, “You’re going to be all right.”

He wanted to believe her. He desperately wanted her words to be true. But it hurt. It hurt a lot. And he was pretty sure it was going to get worse.

She studied the spear unhappily. Removing it would increase the bleeding, but moving Quill with a two foot shaft of metal sticking out of him wasn't a good idea, either. “I must pull it out," she decided.

Quill nodded. “I don’t like being a shish kabob.” He took a deep breath.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Quill met her eyes. Because of his naturally upbeat personality, quick wit, and charming smile, it was easy to forget he was also a very tough man. He showed it now. There was pain in his green eyes, but Gamora could also see his strength and core of steel.

She pulled. The barbs of the spearhead caught and ripped Quill’s muscle. He clamped his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a moan. Gamora pulled harder and finally, with an awful tearing sound, the spear slipped from his flesh with an eruption of bright blood. Grabbing his dark red scarf, she quickly wrapped it around his ribs as a crude bandage. He grunted when she knotted it tightly.

“Don’t forget the ugly statue,” Quill rasped. Using the wall to brace himself, he managed to stagger to his feet, one hand pressed firmly against the wound on his right side.

Gamora shoved the weird idol into Peter’s knapsack, then pulled his arm over her shoulders to offer support. “Don’t forget the pressure plates,” she warned. “We don’t need to set off any more booby traps.”

Quill nodded. It was slow going. He was unsteady on his feet, but carefully avoided all the dangerous traps. When they finally stepped from the chamber, he slumped against a wall and let out a sigh of relief.

“Peter, we have to keep moving,” Gamora urged. “The sooner we are out of here, the sooner I can get you to a doctor.”

He nodded, but instantly regretted it. For a moment, the world spun in multiple directions and a wave a nausea seized his stomach. He blinked a few times and took a few deep breaths. Everything settled down, except the darkness that was creeping into the edges of his vision.

Gamora was not happy. She was not happy about the stain of red that was spreading from Quill’s torso. She was not happy about the trail of scarlet drops he was leaving behind. And she definitely was not happy about his disconcerting appearance. Beads of sweat rolled down his face and his skin was paler than she had ever seen it.

Quill stumbled, but she caught him and pulled him upright. “Don’t lose consciousness.”

“I’m trying… but… blood loss is a bitch,” he replied.

“Come on,” she urged. “We’re almost there.” Together, they staggered from the temple to the small transport shuttle.

Gamora felt a wave of relief when they stepped into the ship. If she flew at top speed, they would be back at the city, and a doctor, in just over an hour. Quill would survive. He was tough and stubborn.

Peter collapsed into his seat. Gamora fastened his seatbelt for him when he fumbled with it clumsily. As she began to move away, he reached for her. She took his hand and was concerned by how cold it felt.

“Sorry, Gamora.”

“What? Why are you sorry?” She dropped his hand and worked on tightening the bandage around his ribs.

“Trouble… Yondu always complained I was trouble… Sorry.”

“Look at me, Peter.” She waited until he obeyed. “You are _not_ trouble. At least not this time. If you had not acted so quickly, that spear would have gone through my chest, through my spine. Not even my body mods can heal that. You saved my life.”

A smile softened Quill’s drawn expression. “I care about you, Gamora.”

“I just wish caring did not get you hurt.”

“Me, too. But telling me not to care about you is like telling my heart to stop beating.”

“I worry it might stop beating, when you risk yourself.”

“A risk I’ll gladly take… for you.”

Gamora did not know how to respond. Having someone care about her so wholeheartedly, so unselfishly, was an alien concept. She had spent so much time being tortured and tormented both physically and mentally by Thanos, what Peter offered her, the emotions he awoke in her… It was all very unfamiliar, perhaps even a little frightening. She finished knotting the bandage tight enough to make Quill wince and not be able to take a deep breath. Even that only slowed, but did not stop the bleeding.

Before she could move away, Peter grasped one of her hands and held it against the centre of his chest. He said nothing. He didn’t have to for Gamora to understand. She saw the emotion in his expression.

After a long moment, she said, “Stay alive. I think there is much we must speak about.” Her dark eyes were a maelstrom of self-doubt, concern, and an emotion she seemed almost ready to admit.

“You gotta fly,” he finally said. “I’m… I’m a little dizzy.”

After taking off, Gamora glanced at Quill. His eyes were closed, his eyelashes dark against his unnaturally pale skin. Drops of blood already stained the floor next to his seat. “Peter.” She raised her voice slightly. “Peter!”

Still no response.

“Peter Jason Quill!”

He stirred, his eyes fluttering and finally opening. “Wha…?”

“Peter, you have to stay awake, all right?”

“Yeah… OK.” He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his bloodied hand, he left a streak of red across his forehead.

“Talk to me,” Gamora prodded.

“About what?”

“Tell me a story about Terra. What about the Epic of Indiana Jones?”

“Oh… Yeah… That was… sorta like what we just did… but he didn’t get speared in the ribs.”

“So we could learn something from him?”

He wasn’t sure if she was teasing or not, but Quill flashed one of his lopsided smiles. “Yeah… Guess we could.”

“Tell me more. He sounds…” Gamora’s attention was suddenly captured by something on her viewscreen. “There’s a ship on an intercept course. Approaching fast.”

Fast enough that only a few seconds later the transport was hit with a burst of weapons fire from the unknown vessel.

Gamora was surprised. “They’re targeting the engines. They want to disable us.” Another shot rocked the ship. “Our weapons are down. Who are they?”

“Who cares?” Quill sat straighter in his seat as a spike of adrenaline shot through him and gave him renewed energy. “I’m flying.” He slammed the controls into position and suddenly the transport seemed to behave more like a fighter. The ship pitched and rolled as Quill proved that even wounded, fighting pain and exhaustion, he was still one of the galaxy’s best pilots. Although even the most subtle movements of the controls hurt and seemed to require vast amounts of energy, he handled the clunky transport in ways most pilots could only dream of on their best days.

But then, despite evasive manœuvres, a lucky shot from the enemy ship changed everything. The wild shot hit the engine and not even Quill could keep the transport airborne.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “We’re crashing… Hold on!”


	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR:

All things considered, it could have been worse. Quill managed to glide the transport, barely missing a steep grey cliff, to land in a small meadow surrounded by dense forest. The ship hit hard, bounced once, then skidded along the surface, churning up sod and soil. Its momentum carried it from the clearing into the forest, where it lurched violently as it smashed into trees. Eventually, it slid to a halt as a gaping hole was torn in the stern of the craft.

Once the ship stopped moving, Gamora looked towards Quill. He was slumped over the controls. Blood soaked through his bandage; an occasional red drop added to the macabre puddle already on the metal floor next to his seat. “Peter?”

Sparks erupted from various places around the ship, but Gamora’s primary concern was Quill. She unbuckled her seatbelt and knelt by his side. “Peter?” She touched his cheek, brushing her fingertips against his scruffy beard. He didn’t react and that worried her. She tapped his cheek a few times but still got no response.

A deep, ominous voice surprised her. “Raise your hands slowly and turn around.”

Gamora obeyed. As she turned, she quickly assessed her opponents. A Kree and a Xandarian. An unlikely and bizarre combination, considering the two races had a long history of hating each other. Both men held blasters aimed directly at her. It was not an easy situation to escape… yet. People always made mistakes. She just needed to wait for the right moment.

“What do you want?” she asked.

The Xandarian spoke. “Your former employer asked us to deliver a message.”

“And then kill you,” the Kree added smugly.

“Where are the others?” the Xandarian questioned.

“Not here,” Gamora replied honestly. “We came alone.”

“She wants all of them dead,” the Kree complained.

“So we kill her now, then find the others.”

The blue-skinned bounty hunter shrugged, but accepted the plan.

“Show her the message.”

Pulling out a hologram projector, the Kree paused before turning it on. “What about him? He’s supposed to see it, too. She was very clear about that.”

“Who cares about him,” the Xandarian growled. “He’s already dead. Did our job for us. Just show her the message and let’s get this done so we can find the others and get paid.”

Gamora glanced briefly at Quill. He did, indeed, look dead with blood smeared on his pale face and a puddle of it next to his seat. She could only hope it wasn’t true.

The hologram projector turned on to reveal the likeness of Ayesha. “Guardians, I have waited for this moment. You cannot best the Sovereign. We are superior in all ways and it was inevitable that you would meet your demise at the hands of my agents. The Sovereign…”

Blaster fire erupted unexpectedly, killing both bounty hunters and the annoying hologram. Gamora looked back at Quill. He was turned in his seat, looking more weary than she thought possible, holding his blaster steady with sheer tenacious willpower.

“Listening to her hurt worse than a spear in the ribs _and_ crashing the ship,” he commented as he lowered his weapon. It clattered to the floor as the last of his strength seemed to fade.

Gamora knelt by his side. “Good job, Peter.” She slid his blaster back into its holster.

He tried to smile, but it ended up a grimace of pain.

“I’ll be right back. They must have left their ship somewhere.” She grabbed a rifle on the way to the gaping hole torn in the rear of the transport.

“Be careful,” Quill said to her retreating form. He wanted to go with her, but could barely lift a blaster, much less stand and fight. He rested his head against the back of his seat and pressed a hand against the angry throbbing in his ribs. His eyes began to slip shut, but shot open when he heard weapons fire, a rifle shot, and then a much larger explosion.

“Gamora? Gamora?!” he repeated her name even louder but still got no response. After taking a deep breath, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet. Clutching his ribs and swaying slightly, he waited for the world to steady before taking shaky steps towards the giant hole in the ship’s stern. “Gamora!” he called desperately, frightened by what that large explosion could mean. He nearly collapsed, but his concern for her gave him the strength to remain upright.

“What do you think you are doing?” Gamora’s chiding voice was the best thing he had heard in a long time.

“Looking… for you… Explosion.” Words were getting harder for him to form. He had only so much strength left and was using most of it to keep himself from crumpling to the floor.

She hurried to his side to give him support. Feeling how close he was to collapse, she didn’t bother trying to get him back to the cockpit, but rather guided him to the closest seat and eased him into it.

“What happened?” Quill questioned.

“Their partner kept a small ship hovering nearby. When he fired at me, I shot back. His evasive manœuvre was to turn right sharply. Right into the cliff you managed to avoid.”

“So no ride home.” He tried not to sound disappointed.

Gamora gripped his shoulder with a strong hand. “I will get you home,” she promised. She wasn’t sure when a spaceship and six misfits had become home, but she felt fortunate it had. “I’ll call the _Quadrant_. Rocket or Kraglin will pick us up in no time at all. You just stay awake.”

Quill nodded, but had serious doubts he would be able to obey.

* * *

After tripping over one of the dead bounty hunters on her way to the cockpit, Gamora took a brief moment to push their bodies out of the side hatch of the ship before hailing the _Quadrant_. Hopefully, Rocket and Kraglin weren’t out getting drunk in the city. She waited for what seemed like too much time and had almost given up hope when the call was finally answered.

“I am Groot!” He waved happily.

“Hi, Groot! Get Rocket as fast as you can.”

The small tree shook his head. “I am Groot.”

“Kraglin?”

The transmission began to fade. A few sparks jumped from the viewscreen transmitter. Gamora couldn’t wait for someone else to talk to. “Listen, Groot, we crashed near the temple. Peter’s hurt. We need help as fast as possible.”

Before she could hear Groot’s reply, an explosion of sparks erupted from the transmitter and the viewscreen went blank. She could only hope the youthful flora would tell Rocket of their predicament.

She returned to Quill, who was slumped in the seat and appeared to be unconscious. Not knowing when help would arrive, she needed to care for his wound as best as she could. As she began to remove his jacket, he roused and asked, “Did you reach Rocket?”

“Yes.”

“You suck at lying.”

“I reached Groot. Then the transmitter broke.”

Quill sighed. He was a lucky man. A very lucky man. Too bad it was all bad luck. His somewhat fuzzy mind then registered that Gamora was still talking to him.

“Did you hear me?”

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

Gamora was much more forgiving than usual. “I said I have to get your bandage and shirt off, then you’re going to lay down. You’re still bleeding and I have to get it stopped.”

“OK.” Quill was surprisingly compliant as she stripped him to the waist, but he couldn’t resist saying with a tired attempt at a charming smile, “I was hoping you’d be taking my clothes off under other circumstances.”

Gamora was unable to smother the small smile that tugged at her lips. She glanced approvingly at his solidly muscled chest and replied, “When you have recovered from this, I look forward to it.”

It took Quill a moment to realise she hadn’t responded with one of her usual rejections. “Wait… What?”

“You heard me, Peter Quill.” She spread the blanket they were going to use for the picnic on the metal floor. “Now you’re going to lay down so I can see just how bad this is.” She helped lower him to the blanket and used his folded jacket as a makeshift pillow. “Lay still. I will be right back.”

Gamora disappeared into the small galley, reappearing with a bowl of water and some clean cloths. Kneeling at his side, she set the bowl close at hand. “I need to clean it. This will undoubtedly hurt.”

Quill flinched and sucked in a sharp breath as she washed the blood from his side and ensured the wound was clean. She frowned. The barbs of the spearhead had caused much more damage than she had expected and torn open a deep and jagged wound between two of his ribs. The only fortunate thing was that it had missed vital organs.

Setting the stained cloth and bloodied water aside, Gamora spoke his name softly. Her dark eyes studied him with an expression of regret, tenderness, and… fear? It was Quill’s clue that something was terribly wrong. She had never looked at him with any expression remotely resembling fear.

“What is it?” he questioned.

She glanced at the raw, still bleeding wound. “It must be cauterised.”

Quill didn’t say anything for a long moment. He had seen it done before, back when he had lived with the Ravagers. He knew it was an effective way to stop blood loss. But he also knew the touch of glowing metal was an effective method of torture. He tried to make sure his voice was steady when he replied, “Are you sure?”

“I don’t know if Rocket or Kraglin will come soon, if ever, so we cannot wait for help. There is nothing on board for healing such a serious wound and nothing to give you for the pain, but if I do not do this, the bleeding will not stop and you will die.” Peter had never heard Gamora sound so upset.

Quill was silent as he summoned his courage. He finally said, “Then you better get it done.” He tried to act calm for Gamora’s benefit, but he was not. As much as he hurt, it was about to get a whole lot worse. Just more of his bad luck.

Gamora pressed a folded cloth against his side and placed his hand over it. “You have to keep pressure on it while I… while I get things ready.”

* * *

Gamora watched the small fire she had built just outside the wreck of the transport. She slipped the blade of her knife into the hottest coals. Sitting down as she waited for it to heat, she tried to figure out the confusion of feelings that churned within her. She had killed often in the past. She had maimed and wounded in the service of one whom she despised. Inflicting pain was nothing new to her. Then why was it so difficult to contemplate cauterising a wound?

Because it was Peter.

Because she had never inflicted such pain on someone she lo… cared so much about.

She didn’t want to hurt Peter. But she had to or he would die.


	5. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE:

Blood soaked through the cloth Quill held to his ribs. The cloth looked suspiciously like one of the napkins packed for their planned picnic. He was supposed to be having a (hopefully romantic) picnic with Gamora. Instead, he was awaiting what would likely be the most physically painful experience of his life. He tried to convince his body that now would be a good time to pass out so he could miss the whole burning-the-already-painful-wound-shut-with-glowing-metal experience, but his body was coursing with adrenaline and refusing to comply. His luck really did suck.

Gamora approached, holding her knife, the hilt wrapped in thick cloth against the heat. Quill couldn’t take his eyes from the glowing blade. He swallowed hard.

She paused and seemed to remember something. Using her left hand, she pulled off her belt as she knelt at Quill’s side. Holding it towards his mouth, she ordered, “Bite on this.”

“Wait…” he stalled. “Are you sure…”

“Bite, Peter. I will not have you die when I can try to save you.” Gamora strengthened her resolve. It had to be done, no matter how much it hurt him.

Quill obeyed, hoping he didn’t look as frightened as he felt.

Pinning his right arm with a knee and placing a strong hand on his left shoulder, Gamora explained, “I am sorry, but I must hold you as still as possible.” She hesitated only a moment, then pressed the glowing blade against the ragged wound.

For the briefest moment, Quill felt nothing, then a tidal wave of agony hit him full force. He bit down hard and tasted sour leather. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought the urge to cry out. When he tried to writhe away from the torment, Gamora held him still. He smelled burning flesh as the torture intensified and he could no longer hold in a scream.

Quill wasn’t sure if he blacked out for a moment as his eyes flickered open again. Gamora was no longer pinning him down or holding her knife, but the scent of burned flesh still hung heavy in the air and pain still washed over him in crashing waves. He was breathing hard and beads of sweat ran down his face and chest. Gamora touched his cheek gently and eased her belt from his teeth. She traced the deep bite marks he had left in the thick leather as regret and possibly a few tears filled her dark eyes.

Fortifying herself to finish the job, she said, “I’m going to help you sit up so I can bandage it.”

Quill steadied his breathing but still didn’t trust his voice, so he just nodded his weary acceptance. Moving made everything hurt more and he couldn’t stifle a groan, but with Gamora’s help he ended up propped awkwardly against one of the ship’s walls. She wrapped a bandage around his ribs and knotted it carefully, mindful of the agony he was enduring. While he was still sitting up, she held a cup of water to him.

Peter accepted it gratefully. When he had drained the cup, he set it aside.

“Do you want more?”

He shook his head.

Gamora gently wiped the sweat from his face with one of the picnic napkins. “How are you feeling?”

It would take too much energy to lie and she would see through it anyway, so he answered honestly. “Like shit.” He took a deep, fortifying breath. “What about you? You OK?” His face was still tight with barely mastered pain, but his green eyes held an expression of care—and something else significantly deeper—for her.

Gamora was amazed that although he had just endured a form of torture, was obviously still suffering, and definitely hovered on the edge of exhaustion, his concern was for her.

“I am sorry, Peter,” she said softly, appearing more vulnerable than he had ever seen. “I never wanted to hurt you like that.”

“You didn’t do it because you wanted to hurt me. You did it to save my sorry ass.”

Gamora ran her fingers soothingly through his scruffy beard as she looked at him with fondness. “I did it to save my Star-Lord.” She used the name rarely, which made it special when she did. “Now lay down and rest.” She carefully eased him back down on the blanket, but to his surprise, she pulled him close so his head was resting on her lap.

“Sorry about our date,” he apologised. “Never seem to work out.”

She combed her fingers through his thick hair. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the gentleness of her touch instead of the agony in his ribs.

“Promise me the next one will be better.”

“OK,” Quill mumbled his agreement. After a second, his eyes opened again and met hers. “There’ll be another?”

Gamora smiled. “Of course. Rest now. You need it.” She pulled his jacket over him to ward off the cool night air and continued to run her fingers through his hair and beard.

* * *

Gamora woke suddenly. She was sitting with her back against a wall, Quill’s head still resting on her lap. She tried to figure out what had prodded her awake. Peter mumbled, shifted a little, and let out a soft groan. He covered the hand she rested on his chest with his own and mumbled incoherently again.

But then she heard the sound. It was some sort of tapping… or clicking. Almost like claws on a metal floor.

Her eyes moved to the sound. “What?!” In the early morning light, she saw two bipedal creatures that looked like some sort of large lizards cautiously investigating the wreck, taking a few steps inside. They stood just over six feet tall, with long heads and large mouths studded with sharp teeth. Their muscular arms and legs ended in fingers and toes tipped with long black claws. Their bodies were covered with dark green scales and small fins on their backs were constantly changing bright colours. One looked at her and made a chirping noise that caught the other’s attention. Their yellow eyes showed no fear as they studied her.

Gamora did not like being looked at as if she and Quill were prey. She jumped up and drew her sword with a shout.

Peter’s head hit the floor with a thud. “Ow…” He blinked a few times, confusion on his face.

The animals jumped back warily, but did not run. They were obviously used to being the top predator around with nothing to fear. Gamora shouted again and charged them.

Feeling feverish and disoriented Quill wasn’t sure if he was having a vivid vision in delirium or if Gamora really was chasing dinosaurs from the wreck with her sword. Just in case it was real, he searched for his blasters. Of course they would be sitting just out of reach. Just his luck. Gritting his teeth and clutching the agonising wound in his side, he crawled towards the weapons.

Then there was a cool hand on his shoulder. “Peter…”

Quill interrupted, “I’m pretty sure I’ve got a hell of a fever… but were you fighting dinosaurs or am I delirious?”

Gamora gently eased him to a seated position propped against a wall. “They are called risaedla on this planet.”

“Right.” He looked at the forest beyond the back of the damaged ship. “More out there?”

“Without a doubt. It is a large forest.” Gamora was concerned by his appearance. His expression was drawn with pain; his face was flushed. She gently touched his cheek and felt heat rising from his skin. She moved her hand to his forehead. “You are burning.” Peeling back the bandage covering his wound, she frowned. It was obviously inflamed with infection. She replaced the bandage. “Let me get you some water.”

Peter watched Gamora’s mannerisms. She was going to do something, something she knew he wouldn’t like. Even fevered and hurting as he was, he could tell. After draining the cup she offered him, he asked, “What are you planning, Gamora?”

She flashed him a rare look of surprise, but did not insult him by denying it. “I saw ripe zarna fruit when I chased the risaedla away. When applied to a wound, the juice fights infection in many species. Perhaps it will work on Terrans as well.”

“The way I feel… it’s worth a shot,” Quill agreed. While he didn't like the idea of her going into the dangerous forest alone, he knew she had made her decision and felt grateful she thought he was worth the risk. He caught her hand. His grip was strong, despite the fact he looked about ready to pass out again. “Be careful… those animals… the forest… can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” She set his blasters in easy reach. “I will be back shortly.” She stood and walked towards the gaping hole in the stern.

“Gamora!” Quill called after her, his voice just a little raspy with pain. She looked back. He wanted to say so much to her. He wanted to speak his heart, but just couldn’t find the words to describe the depths of his emotions.

She saw it all expressed on his face, in his eyes, and flashed a soft smile of understanding. “I know.”


	6. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX:

Gamora kept her blade drawn as she walked towards the zarna tree. The sun was rising, slowly burning the dew from the ground and making the air heavy with humidity. She stepped carefully, her senses telling her something was amiss, but not able to identify exactly what. She scanned the forest, looking for more risaedla, but saw none. It worried her. Especially when she knew danger was close.

Only steps away from the zarna tree, her feet were suddenly jerked from under her. She nearly lost her grip on her blade as she hit the ground hard, but she held on desperately. A viselike vine had latched onto her ankles and was dragging her towards the centre of a sprawling blue and red plant. As she was dragged closer, she saw what looked like an open mouth studded with sharp yellow teeth. With a swipe of her blade, she severed the vine, but before she could stand, another wrapped around her sword arm. Shifting the blade to her other hand, Gamora sliced that vine as well. Suddenly, she found herself battling a multitude of vines threatening to engulf her.

She desperately cut vines apart and not knowing how to kill the carnivorous plant, she slashed at the red and blue petals surrounding its toothy mouth. It seemed to distract it enough that she was able to scramble away. Moving swiftly, she hurriedly picked a few zarna fruit and ran back to the ship.

Quill had slipped from the sitting position she had left him in to sprawling on the floor. As soon as her footsteps sounded on the metal floor, however, he forced his eyes open. Keeping one hand curled around a blaster, he tried to push himself up with the other. “What happened?” he asked, noting her slightly breathless appearance.

“I don’t like this forest,” she replied. “But I did get the zarna fruit.” She presented three purple pods proudly.

* * *

Kneeling next to Quill, Gamora helped him lay back down on the blanket. His skin seemed more flushed and even hotter than before. The wound was fiery red and swollen with infection.

“We need a plan.” Peter’s voice surprised her. It spoke highly of his strength and willpower that he was still awake and lucid.

“For what?” Gamora asked.

“Escape… We can’t stay here forever. There’s no guarantee… anyone will find and help us.”

“The wound is infected and you have a fever,” she argued. “Your plans are not always the best when you are in your right mind. You should not be making any while fevered.” She cut each zarna fruit in half. “And you are in no condition to go anywhere.”

“Give me a day of rest. I’ll show you… what I’m capable of.”

Gamora believed him. Quill was strong and stubborn and tenacious and would fight through all sorts of pain and weakness if he had to. “Let us see if this helps. Then we will think about plans for getting home.”

“OK,” he agreed readily, willing to try anything that might make him feel better.

She picked up one of the halves of fruit and warned, “I am told this stings a little on wounds.”

“Shit!” Quill cursed as she squeezed the zarna fruit juice directly onto his inflamed flesh. “Stings… A little!” He ground out through gritted teeth. The juice burned like acid and increased what he had considered agony to a level of pain he had no words to describe.

Gamora tried to ignore his irregular breathing, muffled grunts, and attempts to writhe away as she made sure the juice hit all of the wound before she tightened the bandage back in place. “It is done,” she declared as his breathing slowly returned to normal. “It will get better now, Peter,” she said optimistically.

He nodded weakly as his eyes slipped shut.

Still kneeling at his side, Gamora wet a soft cloth and gently dabbed it against Quill’s brow in an attempt to cool the raging fever and perhaps bring him a little comfort. He sighed and mumbled her name before unconsciousness claimed him.

* * *

The sky was colourful with the sunset. Quill was muttering in his fevered sleep. Gamora could only hope his body was fighting the infection, because he was right about one thing. They needed to leave.

Gamora paced restlessly as she considered their situation. She wasn’t sure Groot had gotten her message before the transmitter broke. Even if he did, there was no guarantee he had relayed it to Rocket correctly. Even if he had, would Rocket be able to find them? They needed more food than what they had packed for the picnic. Most of all, Peter needed care. He needed medicine beyond the juice of a few zarna fruit, which might not even help Terrans.

A chirping sound drew Gamora’s attention to the back of the ship. A risaedla wandered in. She drew her blade and shouted at the beast.

It replied by hissing at her as another of the animals stepped next to it. Then a third. Apparently, they travelled in packs and were not afraid of her.

The trio advanced. Gamora glanced briefly at Peter, who lay unconscious on the blanket. She needed to keep them in front of her and away from him. He was in no condition to fight them. One of the animals snapped at her while another tried to move behind her. She stabbed at one, making it leap back and then slashed the other across the shoulder. She briefly lost track of the third as a fourth risaedla entered the ship.

“You have got to be kidding,” Gamora growled as she sank her blade into one of the risaedla. It shrieked and collapsed as another swiped a clawed hand at her. Only her finely honed reflexes allowed her to duck under the deadly blow. She spun gracefully to slash at another, but its swift movement made her miss by a fraction of an inch.

Quill awoke to a commotion of growls, clicks, and hisses. His eyes opened to the sight of Gamora waging a battle against three risaedla. Another already lay dead on the floor. She was a fine warrior, but three against one was not an easy fight.

Using the wall behind him for support, Quill doggedly pushed himself to his feet. His blaster felt oddly heavy in his hand as he lifted it, but he aimed carefully. Gamora slashed one of the beasts across the throat, but left her right side vulnerable to another. Peter pulled the trigger and watched the risaedla fall before it could hurt her. The blast from the weapon seemed to startle the third animal and it retreated warily towards the back of the ship, where another joined it from the outside.

Gamora glanced back at Peter. He stood unsteadily propped against the wall, sweat pouring down his face and chest, left hand pressed tightly against his ribs. She had no idea how he had found the strength to stand, much less fight. But the grim determination in his expression told her in no uncertain terms that no matter what trials the universe forced her to face, no matter how much he had to endure to do it, Peter wanted to be at her side.

They turned back to the two remaining risaedla, which were cautiously advancing back into the ship. One hissed angrily and the other bellowed. The sounds were cut off by blaster fire and both beasts crumpled to the ground.

“You have to pick the thickest, most remote part of this weird-ass forest to crash in,” Rocket said with annoyance as he stepped over the bodies of the risaedla into the wreck. His rifle was slung casually over one shoulder; Groot rode the other. “Weird angry animals, plants Groot doesn’t even like… I’ll give it to you, Star-Dork, you never do anything half-assed.”

“Well, you know, never do anything half-assed when you can do it full-assed,” Quill quipped wearily.

“You left none for me!” Drax complained as he barreled into the ship and surveyed the bodies of the risaedla, holding both his blades ready.

“Why is that a bad thing?” Mantis questioned as she joined him.

“I am Groot!” the small plant exclaimed, pointing at Peter.

Kraglin pushed forward. “What trouble did you get into this time, Pete?”

Gamora and Quill shared a smile. Their family had come to the rescue.


	7. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Tired of laying abed, Quill forced himself to his feet. Although the fever had broken earlier in the day, weakness lingered and under the clean bandage Gamora had wrapped around his ribs, the wound still throbbed. He didn’t bother getting dressed. He didn’t think he could without help. Wearing the loose-fitting sweatpants he had slept in and a blanket he pulled over his shoulders, he shuffled towards the galley, where he could hear the rest of his team—his family—talking. He stopped in the hall just before entering and couldn’t help but smile as he watched them.

Rocket and Kraglin were studying schematics on the viewscreen, arguing good-naturedly about something. The ugly golden idol that had nearly cost Quill his life sat on the table. Groot studied it and declared, “I am Groot,” with disgust. Drax stood over the stove, cooking something that smelled delicious, showing an attentive Mantis which ingredients to add.

A warm and gentle hand curled around his. “You are supposed to be resting.” Gamora’s words were scolding, but her voice was filled with affection.

“I thought I might never see them again,” he confessed softly.

Gamora squeezed his hand. “I was afraid I would lose you.” She could see exhaustion creeping into Quill’s expression, although he was trying to hide it. “You need to go back to bed.”

It spoke volumes about just how bad Peter felt that he did not argue but returned with Gamora to his quarters. He groaned softly as he laid down, the movement tugging at the still angry wound. She pulled his blankets up to his waist, then studied him intently. She admired the strength of his body, but lingered on his eyes, which always revealed his honest emotions. Behind the pain, there was something else. Something he only ever showed her—an expression that revealed his heart.

“What is it?” Quill finally asked softly.

Gamora said nothing, but leaned down slowly. Peter’s pulse quickened. As her face approached his, he closed his eyes. When her lips touched his, all thoughts, all fears, all worries and pain fled. He had never before experienced a kiss that expressed so much emotion. He had never before tasted paradise. But he had never before kissed the woman he loved. Gamora deepened the kiss just a little, like a teasing promise, then broke away.

Peter’s eyes fluttered open again. He and Gamora gazed at each other for a few long seconds. Both were slightly breathless and looked as though they had just discovered a profound truth together.

“Rest now,” Gamora encouraged as she sat on the bed next to him. “I will stay by your side. I believe that is what is done… when you love someone.”

Quill’s eyes widened with surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t seem to form words.

“Have I found a way to make you speechless?” she asked teasingly, running gentle fingers down his bearded cheek.

“Uh… You just… I’ve been hoping…” He gathered his wits. “I love you too, Gamora.”

The words were not necessary, for she could see the truth and depth of his love in his green eyes and his actions had admitted it long ago.

She kissed him lightly again. “You must heal and recover. I believe there was something you wanted me to do under better circumstances. After I have done that…” Gamora leaned close and whispered a promise in his ear. She couldn't stop the smile that touched her lips when he blushed. “But for now, you must rest,” she ordered firmly.

Quill had no problem obeying. He closed his eyes. Pain still prodded his body unpleasantly, but Gamora was combing her fingers soothingly through his hair, she loved him, and he had her promise to look forward to. He drifted to sleep a very happy man.

~The End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s it for this story. I’m kind of sad it’s done. I had a lot of fun writing it. My imagination is prodding me with an idea for another adventure for these characters, so this is likely not the last story I will tell.
> 
> I truly appreciate all the people who left kudos and comments. It is very inspirational for a writer, so thank you!
> 
> My thanks also go to everyone who read this. I hope you enjoyed it.


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